Innocence
by Starlit Skyline
Summary: "It's ironic, really, for no exorcist truly has it." – Lavi introspection.


**AN: So, this is the second fic I've written for D. Gray-man. Wow, it wasn't erased, that was a surprise. Anyway, this is set after Tyki Mikk "kills" Allen and the other exorcists set out to Edo and the main focus is Lavi and his introspection. Though it wasn't inspired by it, the song "Innocence by Avril Lavigne goes really well with this piece. Meaning this one-shot has lots and lots of Lavi-angst. I can't wait!**

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><p>Innocence<p>

It's ironic, really, for no exorcist truly has it.

Lavi had always found it amusing, this "search for Innocence" all exorcists talked – preached – about. It was ironic, really, because in order to find Innocence – the one that formed anti-Akuma weapons and whatnot – they had to lose their own innocence – the childish ideals, the optimism and often their view of the world around them. Often, they lost even more.

Innocence at the price of innocence. It was fair, Lavi guessed, if not a bit twisted. He wondered what sadistic moron had had the gal to call it that first.

Still, he'd found himself amused by these exorcists.

When Bookman had brought him to the Black Order, then merely thirteen years of age, it was like Lavi had found an encyclopedia on other-dimensional worlds. Suffice to say, he'd given Kumoi quite a few migraines with all his questions.

What he found even more fascinating however, was the exorcist themselves. They were so diverse, in every sense of the word – from nationality to culture to their abilities and skills – Bookman had called it a great lesson in social studies.

He'd ordered Lavi to watch them and report back in a week, so that his Master could hear what he'd learned.

Lavi had done so, begrudgingly, because the Panda had asked him to write an essay of all things. Problem was, Lavi was lazy when it came to things he deemed unnecessary.

This had one of those things.

It had been fortunate, then, that one disgruntled, stern-faced and stoic samurai by the name of Kanda Yuu had walked into the cafeteria one morning to demand soba noodles. Lavi, who had never seen this exorcist before and being the curious boy he was, had immediately swarmed him with questions – and almost been cut in half by Mugen.

That day, Lavi had learned two things: 1) be subtle when gathering information, 2) Kanda is thrice as moody if doesn't get three meals of soba a day.

One would think that after that, Lavi would have left Kanda alone. He hadn't. In the beginning, Kanda had annoyed Lavi so much – because no matter how many times or how subtly he asked, Kanda never told Lavi _anything! _– that Lavi had glued himself to Kanda. He made sure to be out of Mugen's reach, of course, he wasn't suicidal and shadowed Kanda for the rest of the week, and for an indefinite time after that.

He'd even dedicated an entire three pages of his essay on everything he could dig up on Japanese culture. And, at some point in hounding Kanda, he'd actually began to do it for his own personal enjoyment.

It was _fun _teasing the Japanese man, even though he got mad and yelled and swung his sword around ready to behead anyone that came in his path Lavi had grown to enjoy the temperamental man's – _teen's_ – company.

Also, he'd noticed over the weeks, no one else dared to even _sit _next to the samurai. No one, that is, except for Kumoi's kid sister. She was the pretty girl with pig-tails and an honest smile. Who would have guessed that she was the same girl he'd seen crying on his first day here, surrounded by a sea of coffins? He'd gotten to know her over the dinning table as they both kept Kanda company. Oddly enough, he didn't growl at _her _demand she get lost.

Before he even realized it, he began looking forward to seeing them. He hadn't considered them friends back then, but they were comrades and the wise thing to do was to at least have seemingly friendly relations with them.

And then Allen popped into his life and somehow managed to take root in Lavi's limited social life. He'd been like a weed, quick in growth (ha!) and hard to get rid of, and Lavi was smart enough to know he'd taken root in more than just Lavi's little circle of acquaintances.

They all possessed some form of Innocence – of both kinds.

Kanda's was well hidden, but shone through whenever he came to the aid of someone that he valued and respected, which were few and far in between and Lavi wouldn't kid himself by saying he didn't wish he was one of them.

Lena's was like a blazing star, gentle and bright and comforting in the darkness. It wasn't only Kumoi who thought of her as his sister, Lavi could bet the entire Order though of her like that – if they weren't romantically interested in her, and Kumoi did a good job scaring off any potential suitors.

The most complicated, without doubt, was Allen Walker. He acted innocent enough, even with his scars and the darkness of his past and the shadows hanging over him. He acted innocent, and for a good while Lavi might have thought he was – and even when it came apparent that he wasn't, Allen had kept up the charade. He was like a jumbled web of falseness and reality so thick and complicated it was hard to tell who and what Allen Walker truly was.

He was a riddle wrapped in a mystery, and though Lavi had wanted to solve it he had a hunch that Allen wished for the same thing. Well, if he ever found the answer, he'd better spit it out if he knew what was good for him. Lavi certainly wasn't going to waste his entire life working on another "Kanda-case". He'd already had enough of that, thank you very much.

All in all, Lavi had met all of these people and yet his opinion remained unchanged.

Then he met Arystar Krory the III and his perception was thrown for a bit of a loop.

Krory – who was twice his age, for crying out loud! – was, simply put, a complete and utter child. After destroying his first Akuma, he'd cried over it! And, okay, they'd been lovers or whatever, but seriously! Then he refused to destroy the second until it went completely berserk!

When the villagers had all but spat at him and kicked them all out – well, Lavi had thought he'd start crying _again _– Krory had, surprisingly, smiled and declared he'd never been happier in his life.

So, Lavi had deduced, some exorcist _had _some shred of innocence left in them. He wasn't sure why that thought made his shoulders feel lighter, like something before that had weighed him down and chose not to dwell on it.

=:=:=:=

It wasn't until Bookman had pointed it out that he'd even realized he'd been calling and counting himself as an exorcist all this time.

Which is about the time he realized just how many rules of the Bookman he'd managed to break. Oh boy, was he in trouble. And he wasn't even talking about Bookman! The old man probably knew anyway, but for once chose not to point out Lavi's mistake.

No doubt, the old wart probably though Lavi would take care of it in a matter of days, that he'd cut ties with the other exorcist just as easily as one cut a measly thread.

Ha, if only it were that easy.

But Lavi didn't voice his sentiments, because that would only land him into further trouble. His mind was already preoccupied, and Lenalee's sobs weren't helping the matter, as Bookman ranted and grumbled over his incompetence some part of him had grow numb.

He'd excuse himself to go wash his hands minutes after. The cuts from breaking that window were still bleeding, after all.

Later, when he was sure the Panda was far away from him, he'd allow himself into those taboo thoughts he called feelings and he'd tried to make sense of himself, and everything else that was happening for that matter. He'd ask himself why he felt a hole in his chest yet bore no wounds and what he could do to mellow it, and if he even wanted it gone.

He'd think of Allen – who died and how he killed something in Lavi as well – and of Lanelee – who was crying over a friend and who was crying like he should be, and maybe she was doing it for the both of them – and then of Kanda – who would care even if he never said so. Finally he' think of Krory and wonder about innocence and life and death and nihilism.

And then he'd wonder if Allen would have been happy with him, as his fellow exorcists sailed across the Yellow Sea and braved its hardships. He'd wonder if Allen felt guilty that he'd made Lenalee cry – even though the thought was completely illogical and he shouldn't be thinking like that, but he still couldn't help but wonder.

He wondered if Allen would appreciate if he cried over him too, and then reminded himself that Bookmans were emotionless bastards that didn't allow themselves to cry.

Which brought him to question another problem, one that was less important on his list of priorities but just as bothersome. It had conveniently place itself before his path on the top deck.

He decided it was better to face this dilemma head on – and hopefully distract himself from all his other problems.

Lavi, his elbows on the hardwood of the ship's rail, leaned forward, cutting right to the chase. "How come you don't seem bothered by all this?"

Krory's only response was to turn to look at him and blink. Then, after a few heartbeats had passed, cock his head to the side like a confused child. While most found Krory's immaturity endearing, Lavi really wasn't really in the mood for it.

"Well, I..." the vampire-exorcist began, uncertain. "Everyone's holding up very well, so it would be unfair if I didn't–"

Lavi cut him off with more ferocity than he'd meant to. "I mean Allen ...how come you aren't crying over his death?" because Krory had a tendency to cry at the slightest provocation, though Lavi had manage to tone it down this past few months... more or less. So, why now? Why weren't there any waterworks?

There was something in Krory's expression Lavi just couldn't place. "I don't imagine he'll be too pleased with me if I did."

It was Lavi's turn to blink. He let out an unintelligible "Huh?" that Bookman probably would have killed him for and stared at Krory as if the man had just grown a second head.

Krory didn't even seem to have noticed.

"Yes, when you think about it, he definitely wouldn't have wanted that." he mused out loud, just as Lavi shook himself from his stupor.

"Sorry, what are you getting at?"

The vampire-exorcist crossed his arms, his stance that of someone who was about to make an important speech. "When Allen set foot on this ship, he was heading out to Japan to find General Cross, as we all are. He was a man on a mission, and I think we owe it to him to complete it, don't you? He was an exorcist, and a great one at that," his eyes grew somber, and the small, bitter-sweet smile he'd had up until then fell to the waves beneath. "it would be disrespectful to his memory to stop and do anything else."

To Lavi, this was making less and less sense by the minute. Since when did Krory give inspirational speeches (intentionally, at least)? Had the whole world turned on its' head?

"Aren't you going to miss him?" he'd asked, in a last ditch effort to find some logic in the entire situation.

"Aren't you?" Krory had echoed and for some reason, Lavi had felt his lips thin and glue to one another, like an invisible needle had sown them shut.

And then Krory had looked at him with the most sympathetic, honest and well-intentioned look Lavi had ever received. It had been caring and understanding – like he could actually understand the predicament Lavi had found himself in! As if the burden they shared was the same.

They were only human, after all, Krory and all the others.

But he wasn't.

He wasn't and it was driving him mad.

He scowled at his boots, left without even sparing a glance at Krory – and was it just because he was angry or that he just couldn't stand to look? – and he stomped down to his room bellow deck and slammed the door behind him. Then, as he passed the vanity by the cabinets, he'd gotten the shock of his life. Lavi had stopped dead in his tracks and stared at a equally green eye, clouded and murky with grief an tears.

His hand had risen to caress his right cheek, as if it were that of another, and brush away the single tear that had escaped his lashes. He jolted out of his daze when he felt the wetness under his fingertips.

He'd been crying. Oh God, how long had he been crying without even realizing it?

All his horror and panic fled all too soon, to be replaced with a bone-wary exhaustion that made even his bones ache with fatigue.

Krory hadn't pointed it out – thank goodness for that – and no one else had seen.

_Just for a moment_, he though as he leaned on the bedpost heavily, sinking to the floor, just _for a moment_ he'd allow himself to grieve. Then, he'd pick himself off the floor and head out. He'd go to the top deck and greet his morose companions and try to ignore Lenalee's sniffles and red-rimmed eyes and the fact that he wished he was just as free to express those emotions.

But he wasn't and he wouldn't.

He'd pretend everything was fine and ignore the knowledge that it certainly was not. At least for a while. At least for as long as he could.

After that, he wasn't sure what would happen.

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><p><em><strong>Review, please?<strong>_


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